Lots of men had at least a semi looking at her. Her nipples small but hard and covered with thin white material, lots of cleavage, the near waist high slit in her full length white dress showing a lot of thigh and no VPL. Quite a few red blooded men, and a few women, were imagining her naked and maybe being fucked hard on a table or over a chair.
Nervous and feeling caught above her station amid so many important people, Tara was a cool looking woman on the outside. Five feet ten and the perfect numbers, blond, a real trophy wife physique. If a bit naive. Too trusting and eager to be needed. She must be pretty because everyone had always told her so.
About sixteen and a half, six months into legality, she lost her virginity, on her fourth date with an eighteen year old lad from one town over, on the back seat of his car. Then and thereafter a condom was used.
A few fucks later and he had to move away for a while, it was only right to set her free to have other boys if she wanted, in case he was a long time returning.
Two or three weeks later and another boy. This one taught deep throat, eventually, and anal without a condom. Naturally he moved away too, and on their last night, a condom free creampie in her pussy. She was upset about that but always remembered later how nice the warm cum felt in that hole too and how happy it made him.
Fella number three got the now seventeen year old to let a couple of his mates get sticky fingers while tongue wrestling on the back seat of his car, as he drove them round town. He himself used no condoms as it "Feels better that way" when he fucked her, sometimes letting a mate or two watch. She was so very happy making her man feel happy. And 'The pill' was so handy.
That all ended of course, but a week after before turning nineteen Tara met Marc, a go getter young executive who was smart, handsome, fit and not to bad in the bedroom and trouser department.
Marc was well impressed, someone had got this beauty well on the way to being a trophy and she was just what he needed. They were married shortly after Tara turned nineteen and a half. Marc was twenty four.
Marc worked in the firm of a friend of his Fathers. The firm dealt with cloth and to a lesser extent, clothing. Tara only had first rate sexy underwear although she was often convinced to go without it.
She was well turned out even casually but for a classy function she was really well attired.
Not exactly up to date on news or politics, a bit better on fashion, not bad on animals and their welfare, rather good on day time TV dramas Etc. Few would tag Tara as a good conversationalist, maybe other trophy wives as the company called them, but assorted men folk were very happy in her company nonetheless.
There were occasional wives coffee mornings or nights out. At one coffee morning Tara was introduced to a shorter but good looking woman in an expensive dress and shoes. This was Helen who said she would bring Tara up to speed on company stuff, introductions and so on. They got on quite well in spite of the roughly twenty year age gap. Helen was, a leader among followers, younger women such as Tara were happily guided by such ladies, it saved
a lot of thinking.
Helen was another company wife, a milf to most, married to a senior VP, and she was the unofficial mother hen or, "Trophy wife coach". Helen was introduced to most of the "New company wives" early on, so she could help them adjust to corporate life and learn how best to, er, support hubby in his career. A trophy wife, it was taught, was Faithful to hubby first and company second. Was intelligent, reliable and always willing to help and support the corporate team.
It was also mentioned that a wife who did not meet the criteria could ruin their husband and his career, after all, didn't Wanda Davies upset Mr Callaghan and get Philip Davies fired. But we don't talk about that. Do we!
Late one evening the company had a mid size get together for some potential new clients and company execs. Wives invited, or maybe expected.
It was Tara's first such engagement and the one at which she would meet Mr Callaghan. She was so scared of messing it up she was very pleased to know Helen would be on hand to do the intro.
Marc was a proud man with his slim faced, rosy cheeked wife beside him. The halter top straps were only two inches wide at her nipples, leaving lots to be seen. The silk stitching around her waist pulled the white material in to accentuate her figure, her bubble butt was to die for and the slit up her left thigh had no overlap at the top. It showed her smooth leg mercilessly. Marc was happy.
"Ah Helen, great to see you. Are you well? You look great." Marc began the greetings. Kisses on cheeks etc. There was nearly thirty minutes of this until most men and several women had greeted Tara the same way.
Putting an arm through Tara's, Helen slowly steered away from the crowd toward a pair of ornate wooden doors. "Time to meet the big man, he will need us to pull him away from his desk so he can come and mingle and hopefully seal a deal or two. I just hope he's not too stressed. He can get stressed working online or on the phone. A stressed man can lose contracts, not good for the team that!" She made clear.
The girls wandered slowly, arm in arm, along a bright corridor for maybe twenty feet to a single door, no less ornate than the pair, where Helen gave three light taps and walked in to hold the door open for Tara. The latter was quite nervous and determined to make a good impression which would likely come from following Helen's lead.
Mr Callaghan was behind his shiny dark wooden desk, on his mobile phone, he stood, smiled wide and eagerly beckoned the girls over before sitting again. Closing the door Helen took Tara's arm again and walked over not to the chair in front of the desk but right to Mr Callaghan's side. Once in range The boss reached out and squeezed Helen's free hand, winked at her and then took Tara's hand and kissed her knuckles.
Tara quivered in delight at the great man's friendly touch and smiled down at him. He nodded to Helen to sit in the chair and pulled Tara down to sit on his lap. Helen looked like an encouraging happy mum whose little girl has been invited to sit on Santa's lap and nodded for Tara to comply.
Tara was aware her whole left leg and nearly her beaver was uncovered but was too nervous too do anything about it. Into his phone Mr C said,
"Just a minute Lucian, my relief force is here to save me and I need to seat them."
Using his one free hand he draped Tara's arm around his neck so she could hold on safely and then put his left arm around her middle. His hand lay only just above bare hip. Tara was now more conscious than she had been so far that she was sans undies.
Using Tara and Helen as his reason to end the call, fifty five year old Mr C in his cool mid blue suit put down the phone and, using his freed hand to reach round to hold his other he sighed and slid down in his chair a little, causing Tara to lean snugly, almost lovingly into him. The inside of her left leg was now fully uncovered and she was totally unable to save her dignity if anything else happened. Her pussy was just millimetres away from being seen and was moistening slowly. Mr Callaghan's head, resting romantically against the front of Tara's shoulder was inches from her right breast and she could feel his breath.
"My God girls I needed saving. I am so stressed out after that, there's nothing like face to face, you can't read faces unless it's in the flesh. Thank you thank you thank you."
He the let out a long slow but firm breath, like he was relaxing, It went straight over Tara's breast and down her chest and made her feel warm somewhere else.
"Now there is a man" said Helen "who needs to really de stress. Anything we can do Mr Callaghan?" She looked at him earnestly.
